Past and Future, One and the Same
by UnfathomableFandoms
Summary: Ezra hated memories, and he could tell Kanan had a few of them he needed to let go of as well. Ongoing story, beginning after Ezra's brush with the dark side.
1. Chapter 1

**(This is my only real knowledge of the Star Wars universe, so I apologize for inaccuracy. Before or after reading this, please try to find the short story, "Another Place, Another Time". It's a beautiful story in my opinion, and I feel that it ties in well with both this fanfiction and also with some elements of the TV show. I literally saw Gilbert as Ezra. Also, please listen to "Children Will Listen" from the **_**Into The Woods**_** soundtrack. I own nothing.)**

Ezra hated memories. He did appreciate Sabine giving him the holodisk with his parent's picture on it, but it only brought back what he was trying to push away. It felt nice to have someone care about him, to think of giving him back a piece of his past. This was his first birthday gift in eight years. On the streets, no one bothered to ask for your name or your story. Everyone assumed you were a bad person, that your parents didn't want you. Even the nice people gave you a wary smile, maybe a fruit if they were generous, and moved on with their life and their menial struggles. Ezra smiled a rueful smile. He remembered how being on the streets felt both free and restricting at the same time, how he had no rules but also had no food. He remembered all the lessons and the skills he had learned over time, the scars he had earned. This image brought mixed feelings as well as mixed memories. Memories of his mother stroking his hair when he was young. It brought back the color of his father's eyes, almost exactly his own bright blue. The holodisk also brought memories of the day they were taken. He could hear the footsteps, the sound of vases and chairs crashing to the ground under the Empire's disregard for privacy. He could hear the last thing his father said, clear as day,

"_Run!"_

Ezra clenched his fists, his nails digging into the fabric of his gloves. He looked out into space, trying to imagine a dimension where his parents were alive. All Ezra wanted to do was run away from his past, but he knew he couldn't. People were out there, in worse conditions than even he had been on the streets. He used to think for himself, but after being given a chance to be free and have food and fight for the good of the people, he couldn't. He understood what it was like to be dirt poor, to take odd jobs from questionable people in questionable alleys to stay alive; he knew that didn't make you a bad person. Ezra knew what it was like to skip several meals and live in bad places. He now knew that he could use that to help people who are just like he was. The things his parents had ingrained in his mind had been brought back over time. He suddenly remembered honor and bravery, sacrifice and love. Ezra had tried to bury it. Ezra had tried to rid himself of the person that disregarded his safety for the well-being of others. On the streets, however, he had still found the ghost of that Ezra in alleys and dark corners. Children younger and thinner and more innocent than him were often given the food he had stolen from others.

On the _Ghost, _he'd found that old self looking back at him in the mirror. Now his reflection stared back at him in the window, with the wavering image of his parents still behind him. Light and shadows from the swirling world of hyperspace cast odd shapes on his tan face, the light reflecting in his eyes. Ezra used to think his parents would come back. Then he thought they were taken, and sometimes he thought they were dead. He only knew that his parents weren't with him. Ezra may never know the truth. The truth was a conflicting thing when you didn't know what it was. You could tamper with it, and it could tamper with you. Maybe with Jedi training, Ezra would come to peace with that. Platitudes Kanan drilled into his head could make him realize that maybe he had become a better person with loss, that maybe the Force had destined him for great things he couldn't do if his parents were by his side his whole life. _There is serenity. _Part of an old lesson in Jedi philosophy came back to him. Someday, Ezra hoped he could find that serenity. Maybe he would find it out in the stars, in the eternal abyss of hyperspace. Maybe he would find it in the calming darkness of meditation. Time would take him up in its ever twisting, winding path, and it would take him to serenity if he traveled with it.

Kanan opened the door and stepped into the quiet room, breaking Ezra's near-meditative state. Ezra was glad for the distraction. He was starting to scare himself. The day he understood philosophy was the day he would go crazy. Kanan stepped in front of the image of Ezra's parents, staring at it for a long moment before turning it off. Ezra didn't protest. Time couldn't take him to serenity if he kept looking back on it. Kanan rested his hands on the back of Ezra's chair, gently turning it until Ezra was looking into the face of his master.

"Isn't it beautiful? All light and dark, melding together?" Kanan stared out into space, where lights were still flying by. Ezra had a feeling Kanan didn't mean hyperspace, however. Ezra shrugged, giving a small smile. "Don't look out there too long. You can get lost sometimes." Kanan's eyes drifted out into space as well, watching the light fly past their reflections. His master's words echoed in Ezra's mind, his thoughtful, caring tone mimicking that of a loving father's. Ezra didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Right now, he wanted silence; he wanted to drown the sound of his thoughts. Ezra found it horribly ironic that his birthday was one of his worst days in life. Ezra let out a sigh.

"Sometimes, being lost is better than being found by your nightmares." Kanan let out an airy chuckle, a mix between a sigh and a laugh.

"Don't get ahead of me just yet. I've got plenty of Jedi philosophy to teach you." Kanan's green eyes glimmered, slicing through the shadows.

"But do you understand it?" Ezra couldn't wrap his mind around most of it. Jedi were far too wise for their own good.

"Following doesn't always mean understanding." Ezra resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Kanan's sage advice always held a bit of rebellious humor in it. Kanan wasn't the average Jedi. He was rough around the edges. He had imperfections that made him perfect for Ezra. Kanan was like a perfect balance of dark mystery and light humor and pure goodness. He was a balance. He was the Force. He was a calming presence with his own quirks that helped just as much as he needed help. He could be tamed, yet could not be controlled. He was a weapon of peace. He was an ambassador of freedom. Ezra wouldn't want anyone else to teach him. They would learn together. Ezra could tell Kanan had a past that was holding him back, just like Ezra's. Perhaps they could help each other let go.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Yet again, I haven't watched the movies, I don't know a lot of philosophy from the Jedi's teaching, but I've been doing my reading. This is what I can piece together, and I make up some of my own like you'll see Kanan doing. ALSO, THIS IS NO LONGER A TWO-SHOT! This will be a story following Master and Padawan as they grow and learn together. I have way too many ideas for this to stay as short as I planned it to. I own nothing.)**

Kanan knew what Ezra was feeling, more than Ezra could know. Almost every Padawan has a touch with the dark side. For Kanan, that was certainly true. After Order 66, he had lost his way. He had wandered into not only quite a few bars, but also spent enough time in the shadows of darkness that he knew what cold was. He was still a Padawan when the order fell, just beginning to see hope for Knighthood. That only made Kanan feel guilty for teaching Ezra. At night, the image of Ezra would come into his mind, like a mirage; and Kanan would lament.

Ezra would never get to learn at the temple; never feel security on his rightful home planet. They had dragged a child into war, and were selfish enough to train him, to groom him to do their bidding. Who truly was the good side here? Where was the light? Was life just the dark and the darker? Kanan hoped that after the fighting ended, it would be clear. Kanan hoped that the future would be something Ezra would see, and that it would be filled with light. Kanan didn't care if he was there to see it with him, or the rest of the crew. He wanted his family to find peace.

Ezra was too accustomed to shadows. When he was too young to do much on his own, his parents were ripped from him. Kanan knew he could never change that, and he could never replace them. When Ezra was still so sure of the light, he had hidden in the shadows. Little Ezra had probably still had enough hope and enough good merit that for the first years, he had been reluctant to steal. He must have clung to the shadows, sleeping in them without fear. He must have gone cold in more ways than one on some nights. He must have frozen and let his mind wander off to selfish ways of finding warmth in darkness. His mind was corrupted by itself much too early. Now, Kanan could see him emerging. He could see him stepping into the light, and running to it with open arms. Rather than trying to find warmth in darkness, he was basking in it in the light. And Kanan was holding his hand, leading him there. He was finding the light and warmth as well. His heart was thawing.

Then Ezra dragged them back into cold darkness. In this critical stage of his training, he had gone backwards. But sometimes going backwards for a little while is the only way of letting go and moving forward. Ezra was emerging again, with hope-filled eyes.

Kanan stared into them now. Kanan doubted anyone could ever duplicate their color; not Sabine, no cloning. In the bright blue, the dark shadows stood out. Kanan shivered when yellow flashed across his vision, like a fire creeping into his soul.

"Isn't it beautiful? All light and dark, melding together?" Kanan looked out into hyperspace. Ezra's eyes, hyperspace, life, the Force. All of them were full of light and dark, contrasting and hypnotizing. Kanan could feel Ezra's shrug, a depressing little jerk of his slim shoulders. "Don't look out there too long. You can get lost sometimes," Kanan warned. It was true. If you looked back, if you thought too hard about your life, you can get lost in the darkness. It was odd, how some saw darkness seeping into light when it was truly the light poking through the darkness. Kanan shifted his gaze from space back to his Padawan's face. His expression was begging Kanan for something. Kanan didn't know what.

"Sometimes, being lost is better than being found by your nightmares." Ezra's eyes went downcast, and then locked onto Kanan's gaze.

When Ezra looked at him like this, it truly hurt that he could never have a normal, peaceful life. It occurred to him at these moments that he was a child, just barely fifteen. He had spent eight years without his parents, them being yanked from him much too early. It was like a lothcat being taken from its parents as a mewling kitten, with no one to guide it and take care of it. It was cruel. Ezra had given him a new impetus to keep fighting, to use his saber. When Ezra looked at him like this, he would destroy the world for him. It was dangerous and it went against his teachings. Then again, what was a code when you were dealing with emotions? Emotions couldn't be controlled. One could try to coach them, to keep them at bay for some time, but emotions were always there. Emotions weren't moral or immoral, they just were. Perhaps not being the perfect Jedi made him stronger. Perhaps even the mighty Jedi needed to assess their code. Rather than controlling emotions, maybe it was best to try to coach young ones to control their reactions. The code taught control; it was almost there. Still, some things that cannot be repressed were to be harnessed just for the sake of control. Perhaps this was why every Padawan had a touch with darkness. They were told to suppress things they couldn't, and they weren't always taught what to do if they failed.

Kanan couldn't teach Ezra the Jedi code perfectly, but perhaps he could teach him a few things that never were in the code. Perhaps he needed to do some digging into Ezra's past, the things he learned from his parents and on the streets, to find Ezra's future as a Jedi.

Perhaps through that digging, Kanan could find his future, and bring the future he wanted to his family. Kanan let out a small laugh, full of glee and hope.

"Don't get ahead of me just yet. I've got plenty of Jedi philosophy to teach you." Kanan wouldn't just be teaching him Jedi philosophy, no. He'd be teaching him his own lessons, and letting Ezra find some of his own to teach Kanan on the way. Kanan would watch Ezra grow, and he would grow with him, to become a better Jedi. To become a better person, a better father figure to Ezra. Ezra would do the same. They would work together.

"But do you understand it?" Some of Ezra's customary humor came back to him. Kanan couldn't help but smile. If he could joke, then he could be just fine.

"Following doesn't always mean understanding." Kanan returned some humor of his own. Oh, he didn't understand half of the things his mind wandered into thinking. He understood even less of the Jedi's teachings. Life was confusing, but he'd follow through its path just the same.


	3. Chapter 3

** (****(Sorry this is late. I lost my muse for a while. Thanks to RadicalCat for tolerating me and pushing me through my writer's block. You're officially awesome. Much of the dialogue is practically ripped straight from the show. I OWN NOTHING.)**

Ezra could feel the Force pulling him, tugging on him as he got closer to the _Ghost. _It made him run faster, like having the wind behind his back and adrenaline pumping through his veins. The double moons hung overhead in the blue skies like the watchful eyes of the Empire. The sun was chasing them away, bright and warm. Ezra frantically wiped paint onto his orange flight suit. It was starting to dry, and if anyone asked where he and Sabine had been, they would be dead. Sometimes, Hera and Kanan could be more dangerous than any Sith or bounty hunter. He could feel a twinge of Kanan's irritation, humming through their bond.

Lately, Ezra could feel that bond strengthening. It felt as if a loose thread was being woven into a thick rope, tying them to each other. Ezra didn't know what it was; he liked to believe he was becoming better at being a Jedi. Part of him knew that wasn't the real reason. They were both growing, their bond stretching across the gap of un-shared blood. They were building a bridge to each other, a bridge to their future.

Of course, Ezra stubbornly refused to acknowledge that Kanan, that the crew, were becoming more than friendly acquaintances. He didn't want to believe that he was becoming part of a family.

On the street, in a rebellion, bonds could get you killed. A man would jump in front of blaster fire; stab himself in the heart for his friends, for his family. And he would believe he was doing something good. He would ignore all the pain and guilt his death forced his friends to bear. He would disregard the mission of the people; he would put his friends in front of the whole world for love. What was the good, what was the light in that? Maybe it was best for him; maybe it would follow the Jedi code if he didn't love.

But love was also something he wanted so badly. He had gone too long in the darkness of hatred, too long without anyone caring for or about him. Was love selfish? Maybe. But it was also selfless. Love was something you wanted and something you gave, balancing in between the light and the darkness. Love is a fatal flaw, love is a saving grace.

Of course, Ezra decided to ignore that too. He forced back his thoughts with childish teenage humors and wants. If he thought too long and too deeply, he would fall into a pit of darkness. This was part of the reason he resisted Jedi teachings. They were all about thinking, about philosophy and meditation. Even their carefully practiced doctrines could lead some astray. Was there any true light, without darkness? Ezra had never found any. Everything in his life had darkness lurking in the corners; sometimes it seeped into all of his memories.

So Ezra kept running. Ezra had been for the last fifteen minutes. Sabine had woken him early, with a hand over his mouth. She'd told him to get dressed, telling him that they finally had a chance to go through with his idea. But they had to be quick, and quiet. She had carried the paints out onto her speeder, telling him to hold on tight or she'd leave him in the grass. The early morning air had been almost cool, a rare thing for Lothal. It had been just bright enough to see where they were going.

Ezra decided not to mention how romantic it was. Sabine would have crashed on purpose. They finally found the TIE Fighter, parked in the grass where Zeb had Ezra had left it. Ezra had used the Force to guide her, whispering to her when to turn. Sabine's short hair had tickled his cheek, and he was glad it was dark. His cheeks were about as red as the Inquisitor's lightsaber.

Sabine set to work, laying out her supplies on a tarp and selecting colors for the wings and asking Ezra if a bulls-eye would be too ironic. Ezra had nothing against irony.

It was just beginning to warm up; the sunrise streaking the sky in colors reminiscent of the fresh paintwork on the TIE Fighter's wings. Sabine added her finishing touches and stood back to admire her work.

"What do you think?" She asked, gesturing broadly at the checkerboard printed axles.

Ezra grinned. He could score some points on his admittedly very low scoreboard with Sabine. "Easily some of your best work. Even a Trooper could see that." He wasn't lying.

Sabine flashed a smile, and looked up at the sky. The sun had nearly burned away its sunrise, the moons barely hanging in the sky. It was wonderfully warm, just the right temperature. "You should go ahead. I still need to seal the top layer. And I know _you _don't want to be late for _Jedi _training."

Ezra shrugged, he knew he already would be, and he was already in deep. But if there was a difference between chewed out and dead, Ezra decided he preferred to be lectured.

He climbed onto the speeder, and Sabine yelled something from her perch on the wing that he didn't catch. She was climbing back up, spraying orange paint splatters randomly. "What?"

"I'll need that to lug my supplies bag to the _Ghost._" She'd pointed out when he looked up at her.

"Then how am I supposed to get there? You do realize I can't use the Force to _teleport_, right?" Sabine smirked, bracing her feet on the hood of the TIE Fighter before hopping down, gliding through the air and landing like a Lothcat.

"Better get running then."

So Ezra a had ran, after making his point by rolling his eyes and groaning about how sore he would be before he even started training. The tall grasses of Lothal brushed past him, and he put his hand out to stroke them as they swept by. He could see the _Ghost _up ahead of him, cutting its silhouette into the ever-expanding sky.

It was almost uncomfortably warm now, and he ran a hand through his sweaty hair, hoping he wasn't getting any paint in it. The tug on the Force got stronger. The Force wasn't only there, the Force was being used. Ezra felt light-headed and giddy, and not just from being around Sabine. He ran faster, his feet thudding into the patch of dirt where his home was waiting. He kicked up dust, huffing in his breath as the pull from the Force became almost unbearable. The _Ghost _waited with open arms, and he ran into them. He slowed down to a walk as he approached his Master's room. The Force hummed, tugging from somewhere in his mind. Almost in a trance, he hit the button to open the door, bending over to catch his breath.

The Force presence was so strong Ezra almost fainted. Then, suddenly, it was cut off. It felt as if a taught wire connected to him had suddenly snapped. It was a relief that almost hurt with a sense of bittersweet loss. Ezra could feel Kanan's presence stronger now; it was no longer being overpowered. His Master was sitting on his bed, meditating. The Holocron was closing and slowly sinking to the floor. The corners knitted themselves together, and the Holocron stopped glowing. Kanan opened his eyes, glaring at his Padawan.

"Hey Kanan, sorry I'm late. I was with Sabine." Ezra leaned against the doorframe, trying to look casual. In reality, Ezra was hoping Kanan couldn't sense his anxiety. He hoped Kanan wouldn't punish him too badly for being late for training. "So….You gonna invite me in?"

Kanan's eyes were closed again. "Looks like you invited yourself. You didn't knock."

Ezra sat next to Kanan and frowned when he sat up. "I'm sorry." His eyes opened, and their icy green shone with an angry light in the dim room.

"As long as you learn to knock," Kanan sighed. The annoyance in his voice was very clear, and Ezra had a feeling he wasn't actually mad about invasion of privacy. Ezra came in all the time to ask questions.

"Not for that," Ezra bit his lip, steeling his nerves. "For missing training." Kanan held the Holocron in his hand, running his thumb across the smooth gold surface. He whirled around.

"It's all the same thing! The fact that you don't seem to care! This is important, Ezra-" Kanan shut his eyes, taking a deep breath. His posture was rigid, and his eyebrows were furrowed. He relaxed in a way that was too forced to be real.

"When we were on that asteroid, you made a dangerous connection through the Force. Now I have to know if you...Are ready"

"I _am _ready!" Ezra sat forward. "Wait, ready for what?"

"For a test. A real challenge. One that will determine if you are meant to be a Jedi…Or not." Kanan's voice was deadly serious, and put Ezra on his nerves. He wanted so badly to please Kanan, to be someone that brought about change. Kanan looked like a disappointed father, and after years without one Ezra yearned to make him proud.

"I thought I already was a Jedi. You said so yourself!" Ezra was almost begging now, and he hated it. Ezra didn't get by on the streets by begging, groveling before Imperial officers. He lived by sleight of hand. There was no pickpocketing for what he wanted now, though. No tricks could fool a Jedi.

"I never said you were a Jedi; I said you were Force _Sensitive_. But you lack discipline, focus-"

"Come on! You know how I grew up! There were no rules for me! If there were I would never fight against the Empire! Kanan, I wanna be the Jedi you see in me," Ezra leaned against the bed railing, tensing up. He couldn't believe he was about to say this, "the one I don't always see in myself."

Ezra knew he was no Jedi. He didn't follow orders. He was reckless and emotional. He could never be the like the legends Kanan had told him about. One day, Kanan would realize it too.

Kanan let out a dismissive sigh, and Ezra felt the tension in the air evaporate. "You're lucky I'm not my master. She would never let you get away with-"

"All the stuff you tried to get away with?" Ezra was relieved. Humor, he could deal with. Disappointment would send him down the rabbit hole into somewhere dark and terrifying, filled with his worst fears.

"You want a second chance or not?" Kanan turned around, looking down at Ezra. Ezra shifted onto the balls of his toes. He hated being looked down upon. Why did he have to be so short?

"I mean, if you want to give me one…" Ezra was fully prepared to con his way into a free chance at proving his worth to the crew.

"I'm not _giving_ you anything," Kanan said, pointedly. "Go prep the _Phantom _now." Ezra nodded and marched off dutifully. Ezra was used to earning things or taking them. Giving wasn't in his vocabulary.

As Ezra walked away, he could feel Kanan's presence lingering around him. He could sense the worry, and something else…Doubt? Did Kanan doubt his abilities? Was Ezra weak? He came from the streets like vermin, so why should Kanan be willing to train him? Maybe Kanan was just going to drop him off in the fields when they were far enough away. _It doesn't matter. _Ezra would prove his worth or survive on his own. It's not like he couldn't do it. This test was worth a try, if it meant a home and food and maybe even some friends.

Sabine was back, and leaning against the door of the _Phantom, _polishing her helmet. "Hey, kid. How was Kanan?" Sabine smirked, studying her polish job. The helmet shone in the dim light provided by what electricity the _Ghost_ could generate. The paint looked brighter than ever, as if galaxies were being born on her helmet. This clearly wasn't enough for Sabine, and she rubbed her sleeve over it, muttering about how the "color was fading" and she would "have to repaint it soon".

Ezra leaned against the wall beside her, giving her punching arm a wide berth. "Oh, you know. Would have been better if you let me take the speeder," Ezra pointed out, pushing the topic. "Now I have to go take some test." Sabine pushed off the wall.

"Good luck! Don't break anything important!" Sabine punched the code on her bedroom door, and she was gone. The colors of the hallway were suddenly much more bland.

Ezra sighed and entered his passcode to the _Phantom_. They had given him intelligence and passcodes to their own ship, would they even let him go? He had enough information to gather a fortune from the Empire and have their heads on a silver platter. Would they keep him just to keep their secrets? Would they _kill_ him? Ezra liked to think they were too nice, but Zeb had several promises he had yet to act on. Some of them were admittedly justified. If they decided he was worthless, would they care if Zeb "accidentally" left him on an exploding Imperial ship?

Ezra pursed his lips and prepared the energy dampeners. The static jammers were in order; Ezra would rather not have the Empire tracking them. Lights flashed on the console, and a high-pitched beep assaulted his ears. A thousand possibilities raced through his mind. Maybe the _Phantom _had a fuel leak again. Maybe Ezra had to crawl through the vents and cross red and blue wires and pull out hunks of burning metal. That seemed to be the only thing he was good for. Ezra pushed on a flashing green button and the noise halted. Ezra relaxed, sitting down in the pilot's seat. The silence was bliss. Later, he would run a diagnostic and squeeze into the hot, tight vents. Now, Ezra hoped it was good enough to fly.

The door opened, and Ezra could sense Kanan's Force Signature behind him. He spun his chair around and faced his Master.

"Ready for takeoff?" Kanan nudged Ezra out of the pilot's seat, and Ezra leaned over his shoulder, eagerly peering out the window. Fields, rock formations and more fields passed far below.

"So, where are we headed for this test?" Ezra hoped he wouldn't be sent out into the fields to find some ancient artifact and come back with ticks in unsavory places. He _really _hoped he didn't fail the test.

"You tell me. Your test has already begun." Kanan turned on autopilot and stood up. Ezra followed him, sitting across from Kanan on the passenger seats and trying not to start panicking. What if he was already failing?

Kanan cleared his throat and Ezra looked up. "When I was your age there were around ten _thousand _Jedi Knights defending the Galaxy. Now, we are few." Kanan's voice was grave, and he stared intently at the floor. Ezra suspected Kanan wasn't even talking to him anymore. His green eyes were misty. Kanan blinked, and continued.

"But in those days we had small outposts; temples spread throughout every star system; the whole galaxy. The Empire destroyed them," Kanan's hand curled into a fist. "But not all of them." Kanan's voice was louder, hopeful and defiant and _rebellious. _Kanan finally looked Ezra in the eye, his eyes glimmering with almost mad passion.

"I want you to meditate. Let the Force guide you to one of them."

"But what if I can't find any?" _What if I'm too weak in the Force?" _

"Trust me. You'll find it. If you can't trust me, trust in yourself. _Trust in the Force_." Ezra closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. His attention was instantly diverted.

"So, did you take this test at my age?" Ezra pushed harder, and the Force only tingled, hummed a quiet yet angelic pitch in the back of his mind.

Ezra could hear Kanan sigh. "It was different for me then Ezra. The only constant is the Force."

Ezra opened his eyes. "And only my connection to the Force can lead us there?"

"Right! Now focus. What do you see?"

Ezra shut his eyes again. He relaxed, letting go. He didn't have to push or pull on the Force. It was there, all around him. A shimmering blue line connected Ezra to the shining gold ball of light that was Kanan. Different glowing strings and dots were all connected to each other. It was mesmerizing, beautiful. A net of Force energy, purely light. All at once, images came rushing through his mind like a broken holo-recording. A large rock, a labyrinth, a bright pulsating light. Endless fields of dry, long grass.

"There's a massive stone-the Temple? A-and there's a tunnel with a bright star inside of it." The image of familiar fields lingered.

"And it's here! On Lothal!" Ezra shot straight up, opening his eyes. The Force around him shattered like glass, the humming stopped. Ezra could barely feel the chord connecting him to Kanan, slowly fading as Ezra's concentration withered. "I don't know the coordinates, but I can direct the ship. I _know_ it."

Kanan smiled and sat down in the pilot seat, and Ezra stood behind him again. His excitement sent him into shaking fits, his fingers drumming against the back of the seat. The _Phantom _lowered its altitude, and the clouds cleared. Ezra gasped. A large stone- almost a mountain loomed in front of them. Ezra could barely see its top as the _Phantom _continued its descent.

"That's it! The stone from my vision!" Ezra was nearly jumping up and down now, all apprehension of the challenge he would face gone. This was a Jedi Temple, and Ezra _belonged. _This was proof of who he was, who he would become. It stood proud and tall, untouched by the Empire's dirty paws. This was an outright rebellion, a physical statement that the Empire had a weakness.

Kanan grinned wryly with a spark in his eyes. "Auto-Pilot off. Just where I thought we would be!"

Ezra blinked, and he felt his smile twitch in one corner. "You already knew!" Maybe Kanan _did _have faith in him after all. The proud glint in the Jedi's eyes put a warm tightness in his chest.

"I checked the Holocron's star maps. A temple was recorded here, but I had my doubts. But I trust your vision." The _Phantom _landed with a shaky thud, and Ezra braced himself against Kanan's seat. The engines powered down, the lights slowly fading around them and leaving them with only the natural light to see by.

They stepped out into the cool air. Ezra's breath hung in the air and he shivered. They were far from the tropics of Lothal. Here the sun had risen only an hour ago and a thin layer of snow froze the ground. Back at the _Ghost, _it was probably at least noon by now. Ezra's stomach grumbled, but he pushed it back. He had gotten spoiled, too used to a steady supply of food. He could go days without it if he had to.

Concentric circles were cut into the frosty ground surrounding the Temple, too perfect to be natural. They were carved into the dirt, deep enough that they hadn't worn away with the passing of time. Ezra wondered if a lightsaber had created them thousands of years ago, in the days of the Old Republic.

Kanan took a reverent breath that hung in the air, craning his neck to gaze at the very top of the rock spire. A small smile crossed his face, and Ezra couldn't help but smile too.

"This is your home." Kanan breathed, and Ezra wondered if he was talking to himself again.


	4. Chapter 4

**(WOWOW this is late. Anyway, I'm almost done with the Clone Wars! As always, thanks to RadicalCat for stressing over my writing for me.)**

_There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force. _

The words echoed in his mind, a brush of his Master's voice. The Holocron she had given him years ago sat inanimate on the floor at his feet. Kanan relaxed, pushing the memories of the other life, the other _name_ out of his mind. His legs were folded beneath him, slowly going numb as prickling needles spread up his legs. Kanan closed his eyes, and everything fell away.

A net, shining blue. Not one that connected him to living things, but a map. The glowing orbs were planets, not living beings. Planets blinked out until only one was left, in the smallest, outer-most corner of the galaxy: Lothal. Two smaller orbs orbited around it; moons. The blue sphere that was Lothal zoomed in on itself, and a glowing golden dot appeared. Coordinates brushed at his mind in harmony with the Force. 175 degrees…109 degrees… The map faded away and a blue image, wavering like a holograph, appeared. Long grass, flowing with the wind. A tall mountain, something glowing. The Force.

The image fell away when a tug came from the Force, and the image of Lothal reappeared, with a traveling golden dot, humming and glowing brightly, running across its surface. A new thread appeared, tugging on the dot. The other end tightened on Kanan. It was easy to sense Ezra's Force Signature, slippery and unfocused but still there and still in the light.

Slippery, unfocused, in danger of the Dark Side, and missing training. Of course, Kanan was missing training too. He wasn't even _done _with his. Caleb Dume, the Padawan, had died with his Master, cut off like a Padawan braid. He was the past, and out of his ashes raised the Jedi Master Kanan Jarrus, at least in the eyes of his own Padawan.

Kanan let his thoughts float away, taken away on the tide of the Force as the Star Maps of the Holocron orbited in his mind, each planet fixed on an invisible axle in an invisible orbit. The Force almost drowned out Ezra's signature, but suddenly it became strong, reaching a fever pitch that blocked everything else out. The Star Maps faded away and he heard his door hissing open.

"Hey Kanan, sorry I'm late," Ezra's disembodied voice painted from the doorway. "I was with Sabine." He added, his tone faux casual.

"Looks like you invited yourself in. You didn't knock." Kanan could care less about Ezra barging in, or _whom_ he'd been with. He just wished Ezra would listen to him. Ezra could be the last hope for the Jedi, and he needed to take his training seriously. He needed to _focus_.

Kanan didn't want to admit he was afraid. The dark power he had displayed on the asteroid had chilled him to the core.

He didn't want to admit that he knew it was his fault. His fault for running, his fault he didn't save his Master, his fault he wasn't fully trained. It was his fault he didn't know how to teach Ezra, and it would be Kanan's fault if he turned to the dark side.

The thin cushions dipped and he could feel the warmth radiating from Ezra's body.

Ezra sounded hesitant. "I'm sorry." Kanan opened his eyes and stood up. He let out an exasperated sigh that rolled of his tongue in waves of stress.

"As long as you learn to knock." _As long as you learn. _Ezra needed to learn.

He had so much to learn, and Kanan had such little knowledge. He wished Luminara could have taught him. Always calm, always wise Master Unduli. Caleb had met her a few times, and sometimes her Padawan had tagged along. True, Mirialan Jedi had a tradition of only taking apprentices of their same species, but surely Luminara would have recognized the dire situation… if she had lived.

"Not for that. For missing training." There it was, the slip in the boy's hard mask. Ezra finally realized what he had done, or more like what he hadn't. Ezra's eyes slid away from Kanan's, and the action tightened Kanan's resolve. Ezra would not avoid this lesson. He needed to know how his reckless behavior could impact his connection with the Force.

"It's all the same thing! The fact that you don't seem to care! This is important, Ezra-"

Kanan cut himself off. A true Master never would have yelled. The look on Ezra's face, like he had been slapped and thoroughly deserved it, sent pangs of guilt into Kanan's gut. Ezra wanted to learn, he really did. It was Kanan's fault that he couldn't teach. Kanan ran his thumb over the smooth surface or the Holocron.

Calmer this time, Kanan spoke again. "When we were on that asteroid, you made a dangerous connection through the Force. Now I _have _to know if you are ready."

"I am ready!" A whine crept into Ezra's voice. "Wait, ready for what?"

"For a test. A real challenge. One that will determine if you were meant to be a Jedi…or not." Perhaps Kanan was never meant to reach the true rank of a Jedi Knight, but he hoped for Ezra the Force would allow it. Ezra leaned back on Kanan's bunk, where the shadows were thick. His eyes glowed with an unusual light.

"I thought I already was a Jedi! You said so yourself!" He sat forward, and Kanan tried not to wince at the look on his face. He looked so _young. _So innocent, so hurt. He could already feel the insecurity rolling off of him in waves, see it in the way Ezra curled around himself and hugged his slim shoulders. Ezra stood, walking with his back bowed in self defeat. Kanan hated it. He hated seeing him like this; he hated remembering the cruel world Ezra had been forced into at only seven.

He was dragging a child and the whole Galaxy into his war. How could he look at himself in the mirror, knowing that Ezra would be hunted down for the rest of his life? Ezra didn't deserve the lies, the running, the hiding, the fighting. The fake names and dangerous destinies decided for him by some man that decided his death and the death of countless others was a small price for a war that would bring peace and Order.

Would it? Was he any better than the Empire? Most of the Separatists had just wanted freedom, to stamp out corruption. How were they any different? They Separatists were manipulated by Sith with evil intentions. That didn't mean they were all wrong, all evil. That didn't mean the Republic was all righteous. Even the Republic had been manipulated by Palpatine.

No one was right in war.

The Jedi were the price to pay for the evil infecting the Galaxy, and Kanan was smiling as he led Ezra to the slaughterhouse like prized cattle for the market.

It should be _his_ price to pay for running.

Kanan clenched his fist, blinking the ghosts from his eyes. When it trickled down to it, his intentions were good. He could save his culture and the whole Galaxy from being stamped out like flame in the Emperor's iron fists, and all he had to do was train Ezra.

"I never said you were a Jedi; I said you were _Force Sensitive. _But you lack discipline, focus-" Kanan would have gone on, but Ezra interrupted him. _Impatient. _

"Come on you know how I grew up! There were no rules for me!" Ezra turned around, hiding his face from Kanan. "If there were I would never fight against the Empire! Kanan, I wanna be the Jedi you see in me, the one I don't always see in myself."

Kanan knew how that felt. He had wanted so badly to prove himself has a Jedi- before that future had been torn away. Now, his dreams were coming to life in the most twisted way possible. He was no Jedi Knight, and he never would be. He was playing a game like he knew the rules; he was a Padawan playing Master.

Kanan smiled instead. Ezra needed support, and acting like his anger stemmed from the boy and not within Kanan himself, wasn't helping.

He remembered every time he had run off, every time he had asked too many questions. He wasn't much different than Ezra. Although, Master Billaba had been a little stricter with his training schedule, and a little more lenient with his questions.

Kanan felt a little of the tension and anger ease away at the happier memories of his Master. She would have whipped Ezra into shape long ago, smiling all the while. Kanan chuckled. "You're lucky I'm not my master. She would never let you get away with-"

"All the stuff you tried to get away with?" Ezra turned around, his sly grin a far cry from the frown tugging at his lips a moment ago. He stood with his usual cocky assurance.

Kanan's lips twitched, and he just barely contained a laugh. Ezra was clever, and sometimes Kanan wondered if he could read his mind. He wouldn't be surprised. "You want a second chance or not?' Kanan crossed his arms.

Ezra shuffled his feet. "I mean, if you want to give me one…"

"I'm not _giving _you anything. Go prep the _Phantom_ now." Ezra nodded, a little bow that sent his hair bobbing into his eyes. The Kid would need to cut soon, it or tie it back. Kanan briefly wondered who had cut it when he was on the streets. He had probably done it himself, which would explain the choppiness. It was nearly worthy of Chopper's name.

Kanan watched him walk away, whistling quietly under his breath. It was a habit Kanan had caught him in often, but Ezra clearly didn't notice.

He paused in the doorway. He could sense Hera before he saw her. "I might regret this."

Hera stood beside him. "You have to do this Kanan. After what happened on the asteroid, you have to help him."

Kanan sighed. Doubt was not the way of the Jedi. "I hope I can."

Hera's eyes were steady, the set of her shoulders proud and determined as ever. She would have made a great Jedi. "I know you can."

"Ready for takeoff?" Kanan gently elbowed Ezra out of the pilot's seat. Ezra held on to the back of Kanan's seat, an uplifting- if slightly anxious- presence. The _Phantom _took off, and Kanan relaxed in his seat.

"So, where are we headed for this test?"

Kanan smiled. The Kid was curious, but not nearly as inquisitive as he had been. "You tell me. Your test has already begun."

Kanan inputted the coordinates the Holocron had given him and stood up. With a hand on Ezra's back, he guided him to the passenger seats. Under the thin, threadbare fabric of Ezra's pilot suit, he could feel the tension in Ezra's shoulders, the lean muscles pulled taught. Ezra needed to relax, and learn to let his guard down. Kanan reminded himself to give him more lessons on meditation.

Kanan sat down, folding his hands. He didn't know where to begin. He couldn't tell Ezra about his experiences with his Master, or the time he had gone to the Gathering to retrieve his crystal. He cleared his throat.

"When I was your age there were around ten thousand Jedi Knights defending the Galaxy. Now, we are few."

Kanan had experienced it first hand, Order 66. When he was Ezra's age, he had found his place in the Galaxy, only to have it ripped away from him.

Perhaps this _was_ Kanan's destiny.

The Force worked in mysterious ways. Maybe the only way to rid the Galaxy of corruption was to let it rise, and burn itself out like a blazing fire, to let the new, the better, rise out of the ashes. Perhaps it was Kanan's destiny to blaze the path for Ezra to continue it.

Maybe he was Hope. If he was hope for others, he should have some of his own.

"But in those days we had small outposts; Temples spread throughout every star system; the whole galaxy. The Empire destroyed them, but not all of them."

Kanan would never go back to the Temple on Coruscant. It could still be a trap, one he had narrowly avoided years ago. But now he was coming to a Jedi Temple, saying hello to his past and Ezra's future.

"I want you to meditate. Let the Force guide you to one of them." Ezra frowned, his insecurity was showing again.

"But what if I can't find any?"

Kanan wanted to reach out and touch Ezra, comfort him in some way. Force him to look into his eyes. Ezra was truly good inside, Kanan knew it. It was hidden behind layers and layers of pain and self-doubt, like a coat of dirt left over from the street. The pain was thinly veiled by humor.

Ezra didn't realize he was only hurting himself, burying essential parts of him. Pain was not a weakness, but fear to let it show was. If he didn't let go of the pain, it would build up inside, burying himself in more layers, and snuff out the fire inside of the boy.

Instead, Kanan smiled. "Trust me. You'll find it. If you can't trust me, trust in yourself. Trust in the Force." The familiar platitude was comforting, and for once Ezra didn't make a snide comment about it. Ezra shut his eyes, and Kanan saw his expression fall neutral as he tried to focus.

"So, did you take this test at my age?" Ezra's eyebrows furrowed. Kanan could tell he was getting nowhere, he was too distracted. He was pushing when the Force was pulling.

Kanan sighed. "It was… _different_ for me then Ezra. The only constant is the Force."

Kanan remembered the night on the hill under the stars, minutes before _it _happened. True, the Force was constant, but it was constantly _changing. _

Ezra perked up. "And only my connection to the Force can lead us there?"

A glimmer of pride blossomed in Kanan. Ezra was smart, and he was making progress. "Right! Now focus. What do you see?"

Ezra shut his eyes again.

"There's a massive stone- the Temple? A-and there's a tunnel with a bright star inside of it." Kanan nodded; it sounded familiar to what the Holocron had showed him. He saw a star? Perhaps the Force wanted to show him the path to the light?

"And it's here! On Lothal!" Ezra opened his eyes, a bright smile on his face. "I don't know the coordinates, but I can direct the ship. I _know _it."

Ezra's grin was infectious. In moments like this, Ezra was truly himself, without the layers. Ezra was trusting himself in his connection to the Force.

Ezra followed Kanan to the pilot's seat, watching as the rock formations flew by and the amber grass swayed in the wind, with clumps of rare snow melting in patches. The fog cleared, and a rock formation, taller than the rest and familiar appeared.

"That's it! The stone from my vision!" Kanan smirked, and flipped a switch, shutting off the guidance system.

"Auto-pilot off. Just where I thought it would be!"

Ezra's voice was playful, holding a hint of allegation. "You already knew!"

"I checked the Holocron's star maps. A temple was recorded here, but I had my doubts. But I trust your vision." Kanan trusted the Force.

The Phantom settled on the ground. Kanan stepped outside, Ezra shivering in tow.

Kanan paused in his tracks. The majestic peak reached up into the sky, proud and tall. Concentric circles, perfectly in form, surrounded the temple. It was beautiful, though if Kanan couldn't sense the Force in this place, he never would have suspected it to be a Temple.

_"Where is home?"_

A question Caleb had asked years ago came back to him.

Ezra paused beside him, and their breath hung in the air as they gaped in awe.

Kanan smiled a rueful smile.

"This is your home."


	5. Psychometry

**(So, I haven't been keeping up with the Path of the Jedi arc, but here's something I think you'll like to fill in the space.)**

Ezra had been seeing things. Not visions,_ not_ dead people, though Zeb liked to tease him about his visions. It was…different. Not a vision of the future, but more certain. Unchangeable. Visions of the past.

It wasn't random, but it wasn't predictable.

It started with the old holodisk, hearing that conversation between his parents and Tseebo. He had never heard it before, and it had spiked nostalgia and a bit of spite straight into his heart, which he had finally managed to let go of on that asteroid base.

Then he had touched the Holocron.  
Sure, the Force was strong in that little cube, and it felt almost as if it shocked him like a frayed wire every time he touched it, but this time, it knocked Ezra off his feet and into another dimension, literally.

He'd only wanted to investigate it. To study how the seams came apart and rejoined, how the technology functioned. It was such a strange little gadget; half Force object, half engineering tech.  
So Ezra waited till Kanan and Hera were out on a supply run, and the rest of the crew was occupied: before sneaking into his Master's room. He found the cube, no problem, but this time when he reached for it- the jolt of power was different.

He landed on his rump with a gasp, his mind reeling as the Force flowed through him like never before. He felt…emotions- ones he knew but couldn't quite identify with, like they weren't his own. He felt overwhelmed and confused and so_ frightened,_ but he didn't know_ why._

Then he saw things, his vision washed in a hazy blue cloud. He saw from the outside but felt everything. Stars dotted the night sky and there was a brilliant orange flicker of fire, casting shadows all round him. The shadows grew.

_A woman sat next to a teenage boy. They sat on the ground, in front of the fire. She pulled out a bronze cube from her Jedi robes._

"_Take this Holocron."_

Ezra was too numb to understand, but her smile was so comforting and familiar, and he felt his arm reach out for the Holocron anyway-

_The woman's hand squeezed his arm, and the Force flowed through him, mixed with confusion._

_Blaster fire, lightsabers. Death and fire. White armored men surrounding Jedi. A starship being shot down, spiraling into an explosion._

_A brown cloak billowed out, a green blade clashed with laser shots- holes burned through the Jedi's chest._

_A pair of blue lekku swished and a Twi'lek woman's face twisted up in shock and horror. Fire. The armored men closed in, and the Twi'lek fell to the ground._

"_Run!" The familiar woman ordered, her brown eyes wide and terrified. A flurry of blaster shots lighting up the world. The galaxy. Everything was burning.  
"I'll be right behind you."_

_She lying,_ Ezra thought numbly, too drowned in horror to feel much else. The boy ran, and he felt his feet strike the ground, felt the tears hitching in his throat. His cloak billowed behind him. Laser fire shot past him. He swung a familiar saber out to block a shot destined for the small of his back.

_PAIN. He turned around._

_The woman hit the ground. From the top of the hill, he could still see the smoke from the lasers, smell the cauterized flesh._

"_Cut the kid down," One armored man ordered another._

_A ship, the swirling tunnel of hyperspace. Huger._

_Guilt._

_He grit his teeth, swallowing tears as he cut through braided hair._

"_Take the Jedi instead!"_

_Fear._

Ezra's head hurt. His back hurt like he had been shot. Everything_ ached_ with bitter sadness.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and it got even worse. The pain coursed through him, all the anguish and a feeling of familiar suppression. He was dimly aware of the color green and the smell of Kanan's aftershave.

All of that…was_ inside_ Kanan. It was Kanan. Now it was flowing through Ezra and it_ hurt._

"Ge-get away from me!" Ezra was too confused and in too much anguish to feel bad for the wounded look on Kanan's face. "It hurts!" he cried, struggling away from burning hands. Ezra felt so culpable, so guilty. Why was he here? Why was_ he_ alive when everything else was in ashes?

It felt like every memory that had been tainted with the blood of the past, every time he had bit his tongue to keep from_ screaming;_ melted down into grief and forged into a pure beam of pain, so sharp it pierced straight through him.

It was a tangible silent cry for help that had been held back for years.

It was_ indescribable._

Ezra could feel the tears soaking his skin, burning his eyes.

He could feel Kanan's Force signature pushing against his own. It was normally calming, but now all he could feel was Kanan's suffering, all he could see was the woman hitting the ground repeatedly like a broken holo image. Sometimes she had blue, _blue _eyes and black hair. Sometimes her skin was green.

He wanted it to be over and he wanted to tell Kanan that he_ understood._

"_Run!"_

_He wanted to run away. He_ should_ be running away. He was_ so_ afraid.  
No, that's not me._ Ezra struggled against the cloud of panic, filling his mind._ I'm not the one who's afraid! It's Kanan- it_ was_ Kanan. _He wouldn't run, he couldn't run, he...would he run?__

His knees shook and he found the only control he had was to pull them into his chest and press his forehead against them, rocking back on his heels. Trying to discern what were_ his_ feelings and what were not. Trying to untangle his memories from the burning and the blood._ I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid. I am not afraid._

"Ezra."

There were hands again- but they weren't Kanan's. These hands were soft, with callouses on the first knuckle on her palm- From gripping the yoke of her ship too tightly, too often, no doubt. They were gentle and cool headed and filled with a bright light of hope. Some of the pain washed away like the tears she wiped off his cheeks.

"Hera!" Ezra gasped, snapping his head up, hearing his own voice sound ragged and cracked in his ears. He blinked trying to clear the fading visions of blood and blaster fire from his eyes. "Help. I- I don't-"

Her answer was gentle "Shushhhhh" that silenced his sobs. Warmth embraced him and pulled him away from the corner, away from the cold walls and away from the memories.

He felt calm flood his bones and he was suddenly so tired, so weary. He felt like he'd like he'd lived a hundred lifetimes and each one had ended in fire-

"They all died. Hera." He heard himself whisper, not really sure that he wanted her to know it in the first place. He squeezed his eyes tight. "They all died."

"I know, Ezra." She replied sadly, holding him a little tighter and he felt the gravity returning, "I know.

She rocked him, and Ezra was reminded of the time he'd fallen and skinned all the flesh of his knee, and how his mother had wrapped him up and rocking him gently.

He knew he was probably too big and too heavy for Hera to be holding, but he couldn't will himself to let go.

"No! It's all mixed up! You're not my mother!" Ezra shouted suddenly, struggling free of Hera's hands and withdrawing back against the wall.

He blinked, sucking in hard air and now realized the crew was all here, watching him with varying levels of fright and worry. Hera was squat on her knees, her arms held out and empty from where he'd torn himself away, her face surprised, and hurt. Sabine, Zeb and Chopper were all huddled in the doorway, all looking concerned and awkward. And Kanan-

No, Ezra couldn't look at his Master right now. _What does it feel like to run? _Ezra wished he didn't know the answer. _Would I still run? _

Ezra really didn't know the answer to that question.

Ezra pushed himself to his feet and quickly barreled through them- heading for the cargo hold.

They parted, and Ezra felt Sabine's gloves ghost against his shoulder as Kanan said "No- let him go. Give him space." 


End file.
